


How to spit in someone's coffee without them noticing it?

by ElderQueen



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bard is a bitch, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Oropher too, Some Plot, Thralion-freeform, barduil-freeform, coffee shop owner!Galion, hopefully, i have no idea how this came to be, rich kid!Thranduil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5225924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderQueen/pseuds/ElderQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There ain't no ship without proper coffee shop au. Read and find out the rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Money, car smut and other adventures

They were in the back of Bard's car, cramped in the small space, cuddling shamelessly behind toned glass. Thranduil thought it uncomfortable, but said nothing. He didn’t think that he has the right to do such thing. But crap, it really was uncomfortable, due to the size of the damn sports car. Thranduil dreamed longingly about his own car, the one he didn’t have.

“I love you. I love you so much,” Bard whispered into his fair hair while his hands roamed over Thranduil's torso. “You are so beautiful,” Bard continued and nipped at his ear. _If I am so beautiful, you should've let me be a model or some shit,_ Thranduil thought. He knew that Bard would never let him, but the idea was worth consideration, especially with money the agency has offered to him. If he had counted right, he could’ve been able to afford his own car in about two months. But no. Or no way in hell, as Bard chose to put it. Still, he was glad that Bard didn’t know what kind of ideas he engaged himself with, when he was told that he was alone or unusually quiet. Those ideas oftentimes contained money and something inappropriate. Loads of it. But alas, Thranduil couldn’t literally afford to make Bard more jealous than he already was. “I know. I love you too,” Thranduil replied and shifted uncomfortably.

He spent most of the time (when he was not in college or looking for a job) daydreaming about things he could do and he could have if only his father was not so mean, especially not about him. Hell, the guy could afford almost anything. But Thranduil was not the one who could use too much of family's resources and on the top of it Oropher was pressing him to find a job so he could “support himself”. Like shit. Bard's parents weren’t half as rich as his father with his hotels, but Bard had his own apartment, a car and he really didn’t have to do a thing, while Thranduil had to live in the dorm and travel by taxi. Not that he really did, not when he had Bard at hand. But to be fair, he really did love Bard and besides, he was Eryn's rich kid. He couldn’t have been a gold-digger.  

Bard's lips found Thranduil's and the stubble on his chin scratched Thranduil's smooth face. “Ow!” he protested and pulled back, as much as he could in the small space. Bard's face was looming above him.

“Do you really have to?” Bard demanded, “You know I can give you any...” “Thing I might ever want. With your parents' money. Yes, I do,” Thranduil finished. “You didn’t mind before.” Thranduil sat up, as much as he could, his legs wrapped around Bard's waist. “Bard, I am not a gold-digger. Besides, I have to. As soon as my father finds out that I actually live at yours and you drive me everywhere, he will be raging.” “I know. I would never put you in danger in that way.” “You are not listening to me. I want a car and a place to call my own. I can't let you simply give it to me.” “Why? Do you think that working in a goddamn coffee shop will make you enough money to buy a decent car? And we do have a place.” Thranduil rolled his eyes. “ _You_ have a place. As far as my father is concerned, I live in the dorm.” “You know, Thran, I don’t get your dad. He has more money than most people in the country and you, his eldest live like a middle-class, lower middle-class in fact, meanwhile Legolas...” “Okay, that's enough. Leave Legolas alone. C'mon, we gotta go.”

Bard was grumpy, when they exited the car and walked hand in hand to the coffee shop. If he had his way, he would’ve had Thranduil locked up in the house like a goddamn housewife. Or is it a househusband? Housespouse?

The shutters on the windows of said coffee shop were down, since it was still quite early, much earlier than Thranduil's and Bard's usual rising time in weekends. It started drizzling and Thranduil cringed inwardly. He hated wet hair. He raised his hand, knocked and felt like a fair idiot.

“Feren! The door!” sounded the voice from inside. “I am trying to fucking work here, why don’t you open the door yourself?!”replied the guy called Feren. “Just open the goddamn door!” was the reply from the other guy (at least Thranduil thought that it was a guy. It sounded male enough).

Bard squeezed Thranduil's hand. After much shuffling and cursing, the door was finally unlocked and opened and there stood a guy with short cropped brown hair and tattoos on his forearms, not much older than Bard. “Hi! You must be Thranduil...”the guy began. “Geez, Feren! Can you let him in already?! It's fucking raining outside!” Feren let them in and rolled his eyes. “Prick,” he muttered under his nose so only Bard and Thranduil could hear it. There was another guy behind the counter, he had a ponytail of brown hair, from the appearance brother of Feren, but older, at least 25 as far as Thranduil could tell and he was eating a doughnut, drinking coffee and reading newspaper at once. He raised his eyes when they entered and Thranduil could see that they are amber colored, almost like wolf's. “Good morning,” he said.

“Where is the manager?” demanded Bard impatiently. “You are looking at him,” said the guy with a doughnut,“ And who you might be?” “You must be Galion,” Thranduil said with a pleasant smile, “We've ...” “You are Thranduil Eryn?” it seemed as if the guy, Galion, if Thranduil was right, knew him. “Last time I checked, I was,” Thranduil replied coolly. “You don’t like something?” asked Bard and he put a protective arm around Thranduil's shoulders. Thranduil fought the urge to shake him off. “And you are what, parental supervision? Anyway, I wasn’t talking to you. Why don’t you have a coffee while I talk to your... friend,” Galion said. There was no contempt in his voice, but it was obvious behind his words. “Well, and is it Italian coffee?” Bard asked. Thranduil suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Galion looked at him as if he was a pile of shit which landed on his clean floor. “No, it's Ecuatorian,” he said. “Good, I'll have one, then,” Bard decided. “Feren, make him that coffee. Thranduil, would you mind?” Galion opened the door behind the counter. “Sure, why not?”

Galion courteously let him go first and grabbed his newspaper on the way. The back room was combination of storeroom and a spare living room with only a couch, coffee table, armchair and a chest of drawers. Thranduil plopped down onto the couch and pulled his knees to his chest. Galion sat down onto the armchair and looked at him intently. “You texted to me that you are, let me quote you “literally desperate for a job”, Thranduil,” said Galion. “Yes,” said Thranduil voice barely above the whisper. He cursed himself for that and for the fact that he was barely able to hold Galion's gaze. “Are you still interested?” Galion's tone was friendly. “I am here, am I not?” and he immediately chided himself mentally. _Thranduil, what a rude imbecile you are._

Galion smirked. “And have you seen this in the newspaper?” he tossed his newspaper across the coffee table, front page to Thranduil.

 **OROPHER ERYN EXTENDS HIS EMPIRE,** read the headline. Below the two-inch headline was a photo of Thranduil's father in front of his new hotel somewhere in Europe. Oropher had an arm protectively around the shoulders of his younger son, Legolas and they were both smiling into the camera.

Thranduil gripped offending newspaper so hard that his knuckles turned white. Anger coiled in the pit of his stomach. Oropher didn’t even bother to call him and neither did Legolas (he checked it several times). God, he was so pissed at them both. It wasn’t very frequent for Thranduil to be mad at Legolas too, it wasn’t little one's fault that their father treated Thranduil like shit, after all. He was so mad that he wanted to scream or cry or do something, _anything_. “No, I haven’t seen it,” replied Thranduil, his voice strained.

Galion watched him intently. He didn’t miss Thranduil's glistening eyes. According to him, Thranduil was on the brink of raging fit, judging by his clenched jaw. “That's why I asked you whether you're interested. I googled...” Thranduil closed his eyes and massaged bridge of his nose. “You googled me?” he asked, not caring enough to open his eyes. “Yes.” “Found anything of interest?” sighed Thranduil. “Nothing,” said Galion, closing possible discussion about Thranduil's family,” When you are ready to start?”  “ What about right now?”


	2. Welcome to my underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil and his first day in a job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, chapter two is up, a bit later than intended. Sorry,life got in the way.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy reading and let me know what do you think.

“Look, just look at him. Doesn’t he look completely delicious?” asked Galion with a smirk. Feren turned to his brother. “Galion, do you know what I think? I think that you're not a bisexual, you're fucking nymphomaniac and bisexuality is just your cover so you could fuck anything on two legs,” he concluded. Galion laughed. “Feren, I doubt that anyone besides his stuffy boyfriend and his probably greedy future wife, certainly picked by his father, will ever fuck this one,” he threw a nasty look at Bard who was showering Thranduil with goodbye kisses as if he was never to see him again. ”He is as far out of your league as is the Sun from the Moon,” noted Feren. “I don’t follow, ”growled Galion sullenly.

***

Bard was really getting on Thranduil's nerve this time. He was clinging to him as if he were dying or what and that all just because of... only God knows. First time in their relationship Thranduil was actually glad when he was left alone. He felt so free. He turned, still a little upset about newspaper (or Oropher, to be exact) and strode to the counter. “Right, what am I supposed to do?” he asked.

Galion and Feren looked at each other, as if they were talking about him, but Thranduil chose to ignore it. Last thing he needed was to know what they were thinking about him or Bard. No, thank you.

 “Right, can you pull up the shutters?” asked Galion. Thranduil looked over his shoulder. “Do you have a helping stick? You know, the thing that is used to roll the shutters up.” Feren handed him said stick. “You're rather less useless than I assumed,” noted Feren, “Just tell me that you can make perfect cappuccino foam and you are completely perfect.”  Galion shot him a murderous look when he thought that Thranduil isn’t watching.

Thranduil grinned. “I've never made cappuccino foam in my entire life, but Bard can.” Galion scoffed. “Certainly,” he growled. Feren shot a disapproving look at him. Thranduil decided not to dig in it.

To great surprise of Galion and none to himself, Thranduil pulled the shutters up in no time at all. It was still a bit early so in the next hour there were just one or two customers and that was the time which Galion dedicated to teaching Thranduil to make cappuccino foam and other  “necessary stuff”. It did not go as smoothly as Thranduil imagined.

“Ouch! Shit!” Thranduil hissed over his not-foamy milk when it bubbled out of the cup and splattered over skin on his hands, creating angry red marks. Galion behind him was chuckling. Thranduil turned to him with exasperated sigh. “Help me, please,” he whined. Galion pushed himself away from the counter and walked over with a smile. Thranduil couldn’t help it but to appreciate how muscles move under Galion's tight shirt. Galion took a cup from Thranduil's hands and poured the milk (now hot and bubbling) into the sink. “Wait! What are you...?” Thranduil protested. Galion looked at him. “See, Thranduil, as soon as you boil that milk, like you did, it's useless. Unless you can do magic, you cannot make foam out of once-boiled milk,” Galion said and washed out the cup with the cold water. “Right, so I am supposed to waste perfectly good milk because I boiled it? Can't I save it and wait?” Somewhere behind Galion, Feren scoffed. “I wonder how would you wait with full shop.” Galion threw him a look and then he looked back at Thranduil. “You are not supposed to waste it, you will make foam,” he said and poured fresh milk into the cup. “But it's so goddamn hard!” “Look here,” Galion said, grabbed Thranduil's hip and turned him to the coffee machine, placing a cup into Thranduil's hands.

 Galion's hand was warm over his and his chest was firm. And also, Thranduil's boss-to-be smelled rather nice. Galion pulled his hand lower and they watched as the foam becomes fluffy. “Wow, you are a wizard. I never realized that it is that hard to make some foam,” Thranduil turned to him and suddenly became aware of how close exactly Galion is. Galion stepped away from him, smiling. “It's not that hard, Thranduil. It only requires practice.”

How much practice it required, that was Thranduil about to find out. At some point coffee shop began to fill with people (unusual amount of people on Sunday, according to Thranduil's judgement) and if Thranduil has ever thought that Galion would help him, he was sorely mistaken. On the other hand, it wasn’t that hard, once he got used to the fact that three different people want four different things at once.

And so the day passed without anything remotely reminding accident (minor burns do not count) and before Thranduil knew, they were about to close the coffee shop and he heard Bard's car pulling up in front of the windows. Bard strode in, confident as ever and Galion threw him a look of complete disdain. Something inexplicible coiled in the pit of Thranduil's stomach when Bard looked at him. It felt almost like a threat.

“Okay guys, bye for now,” exclaimed Thranduil. “Bye,” mumbled Feren. “Good night, Thranduil. And welcome to my underground,” said Galion and shook his hand. Thranduil beamed. “Oh, that's great! Do you need the phone number or something?” Bard wrapped his arms around him protectively and kissed him on the cheek. Galion smiled, looking Thranduil in the eye. “I do have your phone number. In case of emergency I'll call you. Otherwise we'll see each other on Tuesday,” he said. Bard pulled Thranduil out of the coffee shop before Thranduil could reply.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) comments, speculations and kudos are always welcome.
> 
> I hope that the chapter wasn't too disappoiting.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing.  
> Please, be so kind and drop a comment. I don't mind criticism, so you are all welcome.


End file.
